Season Six's Big Bad
by Meltha
Summary: At long last, our courageous Scoobies confront the true terror of season six and bring new meaning to the word terrified. 1 of 1


Rating:  G

Feedback:  Thank you, Melpomenethalia@aol.com  

Spoilers:  Through Normal Again.  It completely ignores everything that happened after that.

Distribution: Here.  If you're interested, please let me know.

Summary:  The true big bad of season six is finally revealed… and the characters are horrified.

Author's Note:  I love the show.  I really, truly do.  I just have huge problems dealing with what's happening this season.  

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy.  Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you.  Thank you.

Season Six's Big Bad

It was a nice, quiet evening at Giles's lovely little apartment.  The various Scoobies had their respective noses buried in big, comfortable-looking leather bound tomes, and the kettle on the stove had just started to whistle.  The peaceful, almost sleepy scene was quickly shattered when the never-locked-as-usual front door slammed against the wall and Spike, a panicked look on his face, rushed into the room, clutching a sheaf of paper.

"You're not going to bloody believe this," he gasped out.  "We are in some deeply serious trouble."

Giles looked up in alarm from the kettle and stared at Spike; "You actually look paler than usual… which I didn't think was humanly… ehm, demonly possible.  What on earth is happening?"

The vampire's blue eyes stared in almost speechless fear for a moment and a half, then he quietly whispered, "They're rewriting us."

"WHAT?!?!" shrieked Willow.  "How… what… where…?"

"S'what I said, Red," he moaned as he collapsed on the couch.  "Apparently, someone thinks we aren't dark enough."

"But, well, it can't be that bad, c-c-c-can it?" Tara ventured timidly.  "I m-mean, that guy will step in if things get too out of hand, right?  You know, that one guy?"

"That one guy, as you so charmingly put it, is off doing demon knows what all.  We're helpless, I'm tellin' ya!" Spike nearly shrieked in hysteria.

Giles quickly grabbed the papers that Spike was still clutching in his shaking hands and began to read, his expression changing from one of guarded concern to outright horror.  "Oh dear."

"Giles, you're making me get nervous, fluttery feelings in my tummy.  What's it say?" Buffy asked.  Seeing her Watcher looking dang near shell-shocked was a new and unpleasant experience.

"Well… I'm leaving."

Xander blinked dazedly.  "What?  You can't go anywhere!  You're the one who actually knows stuff!"

"Apparently I am supposed to think that Buffy being raised from the dead and forced to raised her fifteen year old sister at the ripe old age of twenty due to her mother dying less than a year ago and her absentee father abandoning her whilst she is dealing with being pulled from heaven and risking her life on a nightly basis without pay in order to save the world has been such a pampering experience that she must be shown the harsher side of life," Giles intoned in a dead voice as he dropped down next to Spike on the couch.  

"That's… that's…" Xander tried to form a coherent thought.

"A lot better than some of you lot are going to get.  Wills, congratulations, you're a drug addict," Spike explained with a roll of his eyes.

"A what?  But I don't do drugs!"

"No, but you do magic.  And apparently, magic is a drug, as you are going to a dealer in order to get your fix, quickly followed by a driving-while-high incident that results in you wrapping a car around cement yet having Dawn walk away with only minor injuries despite having no seat belts fastened," Giles read in a tone of utter disbelief.  "You also wipe out Tara's memory temporarily, and she… she leaves you."

"I-I what?"  Tara grabbed the paper.  "Willow, you'd never do this to me!  I mean, yeah, I'd break up with somebody who decided to erase my brain like a big Etch-a-Sketch, but you'd never do that!"

"Especially not after Glory went prodding around in your mind!" Willow fairly yelled.  "That's just… I can't do that!"

"You do give up magic, it says, but you go through all the physical symptoms of drug withdrawal, as well," the Watcher informed her gravely.

"So Tara has to stop doing spells?  Cuz, if it's addictive…" Anya wondered aloud.

"No, she, it seems, is not addicted.  And yes, it makes no sense at all.  She simply disappears for a while," Giles sputtered.

"So Giles and Tara get the boot and Willow's a druggie.  What happens to me?  Do I wind up in a pit of bunnies after all my money gets taken away?" Anya questioned, holding onto the fireplace mantle for support.

"Um, no, but Xander refuses to tell us you're engaged until Halloween, then he jilts you at the altar," Giles said sympathetically.

"You're going to do what to me?" Anya hollered as she rounded on Xander.  "That's… well, really rude is a start."

"Gotta agree with ya there," the groom-not-to-be mumbled gloomily.  

"Oh, it's a soddin' lot worse than that.  Not only do you ditch her, but you leave her to make the announcement to your family while you turn tail and run like a big sissy," Spike added.  "And get this; none of you stick around to help demon girl.  And when butt-monkey over there returns home, everybody says mistakes will happen and don't even mention that he acted like the biggest Neanderthal this side of the caveman days."

"This is getting way scary," Dawn squeaked in a freaked-out tone.  "I'm kind of afraid to ask… do I get run over by a truck or something?"

"No, Nibblet.  But it looks like the whole point of the season is to make the audience think that would be a good thing," Spike answered.  "You pretty much start behaving like a world-class whiner.  And I don't seem to have anything at all to do with you after Buffy comes back, so all the bonding we did and me saving your life?  Apparently, I was just bored or obsessed with a dead woman or some equally moronic excuse." 

"Uh… what about me…" Buffy shakily realized that she was probably in for the worst of it.  "I think I want to sit down."

"Pet, you better actually lay down.  You're depressed, apathetic, emotionally stunted, self-pitying," Spike began to list off on his fingers, "masochistic, flipping burgers for a living, then you and me do a little on the extracurricular front and you beat me to within an inch of my unlife."

"Wait, I beat the guy I'm dating nearly senseless?"

"We don't actually date.  You just keep coming down to my crypt and… well, I'm blushing and I'm a vampire, so you get the picture, luv.  Oh, and for some odd reason you hack off your hair and your color becomes sort of… well… grayish-brownish-blonde.  Cuz we can't possibly have even one little ray of happy color mucking up the sea of mind-numbingly out of character depressing predicaments."

"Is there… at least, I'm hoping… a decent big bad?" Willow said as she patted Buffy's shoulder sadly.

"You're fighting Jonathon, Warren, and some fellow we've never seen before," Giles's voice said from somewhere behind his hands that were supporting his down turned face.

"And me… know how I was on the road to being a decent enough fellow?  Self-sacrificing, a rarity among vampires, good to Dawn, able to tolerate your friends?"

"Yeah?" Buffy said weakly.

"They ignore it.  Completely.  They want me to go back to being Mr. Two-Dimensional Evil Vampire Guy, cuz of course that provides so much bleeding room for character development.  It either means dust or following Giles into the wild blue yonder.  May as well start packin' me duds.  I'm leaving you my duster, Sweet Bit."

Everyone sat in heavy silence for a good ten minutes before Spike added, "Oh, and Slayer, you're insane and in the loony bin and none of the rest of us exist."

Another two hours of silence passed as the gang tried to comprehend this pearl of wisdom.

"This is disturbing," Willow finally managed.

"You know, Giles, I think you've got it wrong," Buffy said with an edge of determination in her voice.  "The three dweebs… I'm assuming the third guy is also a dweeb?"

"Correct.  Quite, ehm, dweeby."

"Right.  The three dweebs aren't the real enemies this season."  She turned and faced the audience directly.  "It's the writers."


End file.
